


A Moment's Respite

by Erimentha



Category: Ebon Light
Genre: Ambiguous Main Character, F/M, Fluff, Probably ooc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-10 00:12:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13492752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erimentha/pseuds/Erimentha
Summary: She takes a break in the garden and quietly reflects on her relationship with Duliae - until, to her surprise, he joins her.





	A Moment's Respite

**Author's Note:**

> To celebrate the latest update with Duliae! MC left purposefully ambiguous, as is time/setting/relation to plot.

She wasn’t afraid of Duliae anymore. 

At first, she was – it was hard not to be frightened by someone who was known as the Onyx Chandler. His name – or title, she supposed – could shut down a line of questioning without a second’s hesitation. She’d seen it on the deck of the ship when Lacey first dragged her on board, and later down in the hold with Calipoa. 

Despite Ernol’s pessimism and overall lack of tact, she was glad she took the moment to talk to him. If she hadn’t, she might never have learned they were friends. At the very least, it was a relief to know that the man had associates that weren’t Laceaga. 

The relief did nothing to dispel her shock when she met him. She had been expecting a man like the other Gha’lians on the ship – darkly dressed and blunt and probing, treating her like a fascinating new toy (at best) or like a horrible smell (at worst). Instead there was, well, Duliae, his golden hair alight thanks to the Cuthinthal, dressed in purples and reds that stood out almost painfully in the bleakness of the docks. She didn’t remember much else. Either it was the fainting or the ancient elven poison, or maybe a bit of both. 

Her host-captor had been open with her. Honest. Duliae had a sort of blunt charisma about him that made it easy to trust him – or at least go along with his plan. Personal charm aside, it seemed her best bet for survival. It wasn’t as if she was an expert on Gha’lian history and culture and it was unlikely that anyone else would be nearly so accommodating. 

That was then. Now she sat quietly in his garden, ankles crossed carefully underneath the bench. It might not have been up to Duliae’s standards, but it far eclipsed hers. Edric wasn’t exactly known for its lush beauty. So, lately, whenever she was drained, she would slip away outside to decompress. It was almost funny how she had changed. She wasn’t exactly a lady of leisure, but whatever she was now, it was the opposite of who she had once been. 

At the very least, she didn’t need to go forage for food and trade ramps for stories. 

She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she hadn’t noticed Duliae’s arrival until he sat down on the bench next to her. They had long passed the point that she felt nervous to be found relaxing. Duliae approved of her growth, encouraged her to push past certain hesitancies, but always knew when to back off. It came with being able to read people as well as he did. 

Still, it was a surprise to find him next to her. He’d told her that morning that he had some urgent work to do, so when she grew frustrated in her mission to learn how to read Gha’lian, she ignored the urge to seek him out, as she usually did. The last thing she wanted was to interrupt something important. 

Her confusion must have shown on her face, because Duliae gave her one of his mysterious half-smiles. “I found myself in need of a break from my correspondence, so imagine my surprise when I went to the library and found it empty.” 

His tone wasn’t accusatory, but she smiled back at him apologetically. “It was starting to get hard to focus.” 

“Yes, well.” Duliae looked away, instead glancing around at the walls that surrounded them. A knot formed in the pit of her stomach – she thought she had started to get a handle on him, but in that moment he was worse than the history she’d been trying to read. After a moment’s pause, Duliae added, “I should have some sort of climbing plant put in.”

She couldn’t help the quirk of her brow as she continued to look him over, trying to figure out what was on his mind. “A climbing plant?” 

“One that blooms, preferably, to liven up the walls. They are rather drab, aren’t they?” 

Frankly, the drabness of the walls hadn’t crossed her mind. She was enjoying the plants themselves, the scents and their colours, the tranquility of nature – and the lack of flesh-eating harpies. She told him so with a wry smile and felt herself warming as he let out a small laugh. 

“I will make an effort not to purchase any of those. But,” Duliae made a rather uncharacteristic pause, “what else is missing?” 

“Nothing.” 

It was his turn to raise a brow at her, though he stayed quiet. 

“For all the jokes you make of it, Duliae, I like your garden. It’s quiet and comfortable. I don’t think anything needs to be done to it at all – though,” she adds with a laugh, “I think living in the Burned Forest makes me the opposite of an expert on horticulture.” 

Rather than laugh along, as she had hoped, Duliae turned back to look at her. “To the contrary; I welcome your opinion.” 

“And I’ve given you it.” 

There was another pause, broken when Duliae stood. “Then I suppose I will leave you be.” 

“You weren’t even here five minutes,” she said, inwardly cursing how it might come off as needy. But Duliae was a cunning man, one that worked hard to get where he was – he deserved more than a second’s respite. 

To her complete non-surprise, Duliae shook his head. She was expecting him to say something about his plans or his research – but she heard something completely different. 

“I’ve encroached on your peace long enough. I will go somewhere else.”

“There’s no need, Duliae. I would welcome your company.” 

“Would you?” 

His eyes were narrowed, giving her one of his soul-searching looks. If she lied he would probably know it – not that she wanted to. If he was leaving under the misguided assumption that she didn’t want him around, well. It was a misconception that needed clearing. 

“You told me this morning that today was going to be busy for you.” 

An uncharacteristic blank look of surprise came over his face, but in the next beat it was replaced with a rare genuine smile, the kind reserved for when she truly surprised him. She thought, perhaps, that when he sat back down he was sitting closer – but she could have been imagining it. 

Then he rested his hand over hers. 

“For future reference, my dear, I may be busy, but never too pressed for time to have a break.” 

She was unsure of what to say, or how to express her pleasure. Perhaps words weren't needed. Quietly, she turned over her hand, carefully entwining their fingers. Together they sat until the wind picked up, enjoying their moment in the garden.


End file.
